Vanished: Master Chapters
by LilyWanKenobi
Summary: All new chapters from the Master's POV! (Companion to my story Vanished. Please read that one first.)
1. Chapter One: The Master

He followed Ahsoka through the halls, his eyes still half shut as she explained the situation. An occasional nod and mumble of agreement was enough to satisfy her that he was listening, so he remained firmly anchored in the blissful state of unconsciousness.

Why she had roused him from his comfortable bed just after lunch was beyond him. Something about some ship going down? Why couldn't the kriffing pilot find some other planet to blow up on?

He sensed her stop, and sighed in relief as he did as well. They must be at the lift, then, and he wouldn't have to move for another few seconds.

Then, she cleared her throat. "You're not listening to me, are you?"

Anakin gave an emphatic nod to show his agreement. "Mm-Hmm."

His dreams were filled with creamy skin and endless curls of chocolate. Seemingly endless softness drove him to madness, just out of his reach. And even worse than the distractingly unending temptation was her lips, curling just so to form his name.

 _Ani._

It was enough to make a man have to wash his sheets every night.

At least she had been content to keep those red rimmed lips far away from him. The thread of self control he had clung to, even in his subconscious, would have been useless. Hadn't experience taught him he was helpless to resist her devious charms?

But now she was moving in, her eyes seeming to hypnotize him until he couldn't move from his spot. Her lips were curled into a feral grin that held a promise of what was to come. Silken curls mixed with satin skin, and he watched in fascination as the small strips of black leather and pink gauze were stripped away. Then, like any experienced temptress, she knelt in front of him, and…

wA stinging pain in his cheek brought him back to reality like a bucketful of ice water.

Anger swelled in him, the most common emotion that followed the dreams. Anger at Padmé for continuing to torment him after all these years. Anger at himself for not being strong enough to turn her away. And most of all, anger at Ahsoka for interrupting the only pleasurable part of his existence.

"What the kriffing hell do you think you're doing?"

She glared up at him. "Save your erotic fantasies for later. There's a ship going down, not even ten kilometers away from here, and you're about ready to jump out of your pants."

Anakin felt his face grow red with embarrassment. He couldn't very well argue with her, as every word she had said was true. So, he just stalked off in the direction of the communications room, leaving her behind him.

Colier and Matri, two brothers he had rescued nearly two years before, were already in their seats, headsets on as their eyes focused on the screen in front of them.

"What's happening?"

Matri, the younger of the two and the most communicative, turned slightly. "We've managed to identify the ship as a royal Nubian cruiser."

His heart seemed to stop. "Are you sure?"

"Quite sure, Master. It seems that the ship has sustained some sort of external damage, disabling the engines and controls." He squinted at the holographic image displayed. "It looks like the Senate stamp is on it. Must be a Senator or some sort of official."

Force, no.

Colier pulled off his headset. "They're trying to make contact. Shall I let them through?"

His hands clenched the nearest table until they turned white. "Yes."

Almost immediately, the sound of static filled the room. Because of Ehren's atmosphere, any sort of transmissions were difficult to make, and only the main comm unit was strong enough to carry a direct signal.

Colier fiddled with some controls, and the static reduced.

"... Ami… shots… aband… cease fi… Jedi… women…" was the only thing that got through, but the voice was what nearly brought him to his knees. The cultured Coruscanti accent left no doubt.

Obi-Wan Kenobi was on that ship.

"Colier, Matri, I want every troop we have to do everything they can to save that ship," he barked out. "Soka, try to make contact with them. See if he can explain exactly what's wrong with the ship."

Like always, they obeyed immediately, the brothers leaving the room while Ahsoka took their place in front of one of the stations. When he went to the other, she gave him an odd look. "What are you doing?"

Didn't she see that this wasn't the time for asking questions? "I'm going to see if I can hack the ship. I might be able to override the manual crash cycle and use the tractor beam to slow it's course."

If she was impressed with his plan, she didn't show it, instead donning the headset and beginning to talk rapidly into the receiver.

After a few seconds of nothingness, she tore off her headset. "Master, he's opening the ramp. I heard him say something about jumping."

At least his Master still had his brains. "Do you have a lock on it's position?" She nodded. "Tell Colier and Matri to go there and wait for them."

She obliged, then listened for a few moments before turning to him again. "They've caught sight of the two, and will have them back here in a few minutes." When he hesitated, she nodded. "Go on, I'll take care of things here."

So he did.

* * *

He paced the platform of the great room, adjusting and readjusting his hood. It was futile, he knew. Obi-Wan would be able to sense him immediately, but he still didn't want her to see his face. How many times had she visited him in his dreams, only to express her disgust at the scars across his eye, his cheek?

She would be angry, undoubtedly. How could she not? In all legal and apparent senses of the word, he had been dead for three years. And no one took kindly to knowing that their prey had been killed off.

Absently, he moved a pillow out of his way, stacking it on the massive pile already formed in the center of the platform. Glancing at it, he was suddenly struck with how it resembled one of the castles he had made with some of his fellow padawans after filching over half of the temple cushions.

Perhaps…

In record time, he constructed a fortress, complete with turrets and battlements. A moat of blankets surrounded it, surely filled with some species of man eating predators. Inside of it, stolen treasure was likely guarded by a group of thugs, forcing the people of the land to starve.

A log shaped pillow made an effective missile to be launched, bringing the castle down in a cascade of bricks and killing the Sith Lord- for there always had to be a Sith Lord- in an instant.

But of course, one could never be certain in times like these.

Carefully, he circled the fortress, meticulously searching for any signs of life, before…

"VICTORY!" And since no story was complete without a narrator, he lowered his voice and said, "and he brings down the enemy fort. Everyone cheers as our Hero With No Fear once again saves the day."

Of course, no here could be a hero without some humility, so he bowed to villagers. "Thank you, thank you, everyone, it was nothing."

But now the battle was over, and the fortress shrank into a scattered pile of pillows while the sound of townspeoples cheers were reduced to the silence that cloaked the great room. And the pillows… "I probably should get someone to pick those up."

Then, all at once, he felt it. He was not alone.

Anakin whirled at the clearing of a throat, his heart hammering in his chest at the force signature he sensed. _Padmé_.

She was just as beautiful as he remembered. And with mussed hair and nightgown, she very closely resembled something of his dreams.

Determined to put that thought from his mind before it triggered something he would regret, he turned to Obi-Wan.

Or rather, the woman who was standing where Obi-Wan should have been. He frowned. "Where is the male?"

Colier blinked. "Master? You said to get the two prisoners, and we did…"

His patience was wearing thin. "There was supposed to be a man and a woman, not two women!"

"Master, I promise you, there were only these two. We saw them jump, there were no others."

He bit back a curse, sensing the truth in his words. But Obi-Wan had been on that ship. He turned to the woman. "Was there someone else with you?"

A flinty glare was his only response, and he felt her mental shields tighten as he brushed her mind. Interesting.

Padmé, on the other hand, was nearly gloating over the fact that her friend wasn't giving up any secrets. Pride ran high through her, and didn't abate until he turned to her.

As if anticipating his actions, a sense of doom fell over her. He held back a smirk as he approached her, an idea forming in his mind.

"Since it seems your friend refuses to give me any information," he said softly, carefully dampening her awareness so she wouldn't recognize his voice, "Maybe you will be more willing. Now tell me, was there a human male with you?"

She peeked at him from beneath her thick eyelashes. "No."

 _Lie._ "Are you lying to me?" he asked, dosing the words with as much charm and seduction as they could carry.

She licked her lips, no doubt in an attempt to distract him. It nearly worked. "No."

So, she wanted to play with him. Perhaps she thought that she could still control him. Well, two could play that game.

Using every ounce of the seductive charm he had, and even some that he didn't, he murmured, "Oh, come now, my pet. There is no need to lie to me."

The words, coupled with a gentle force suggestion, did the trick, and she blinked up at him with wide eyes. "What did you call me?"

He was playing with fire, and he knew it. Carefully, he traced her jawline, wishing belatedly that he hadn't worn gloves. She shuddered softly, and the action lit his blood. "What is it my pet? Why do you tremble?" Unable to resist, he traced the curve of her lips.

She didn't speak, her eyes reflecting the same heat that he felt. Finally, finally, she would be able to feel the torture she had put him through for three years.

He stroked her cheek, reveling in the feel of vengeance. "You want to tell me, don't you, my pet?" With a flick of his fingers, the binders that held her fell to the floor and he pulled her to him. The gasp she released nearly undid him, and he knew he would have to end it soon before he became the victim of his own game. "Tell me."

She seemed to melt in his arms. "I… I can't."

"And why not, my pet?" He whispered, stroking her hair gently.

That was it. Her resolve wavered once, then crashed. "There was another. He… he didn't make it out in time." He stiffened. Impossible, Obi-Wan always survived. She shuddered. "He made sure the ship was far enough away from us so we wouldn't be hurt in the blast. He died to save us."

The blonde woman whimpered softly, and intense sorrow radiated from her. He pulled back slightly, glancing at her. Something about her seemed familiar, and the raw pain he felt from her was staggering as if…

He shook off the thought, turning to Colier and Matri. "Take the ladies to get cleaned up and rest. They are likely fatigued from their… experience." He turned to Padmé, touching her cheek one more time. "I will see you at dinner, my pet."

If he survived that long.

* * *

 **So, the Master speaks. Was it anything like you expected it?**

 **Are there any other scenes that you would like to see? Please tell me, so I can write them next!**

 **Just for clarification: I will be updating a new chapter for every fifty favorites, or hundred of either followers or reviews on Vanished. Let's see how many chapters we get, shall we?**


	2. Chapter Two: His Pet

He watched from afar as they doused her in attention. His staff was careful to attend to every detail. They were loyal, but above that, they wished for his happiness. And if he assured them that Padmé's every comfort was his desire, they would not be lacking in their attention.

Perhaps he should have been embarrased to have everything so well laid out for her. After all, what stranger in his right mind obsessively collects clothing, accesories, and perfumes perfectly tailored to a woman he had supposedly never met?

She had driven him to it, of course. She had wanted fine things, and fine things she would get. But his heart?

She had effectively destroyed that at Varykino.

It didn't mean he didn't take pity on her.

Obi-Wan's death had been unplanned for, and had hit both Padmé and her blonde friend hard, but the latter seemed well able to take care of herself. Padmé, however…

Anakin had no doubt that she would be able to pull herself from the despondancy she suffered, but a little nudge never hurt anyone, did it? As it was, he couldn't very well continue on with his plan if she was consumed with sadness, could he?

He didn't want her to be happy; far from it. No, this was for revenge. There was little chance that she would mourn her loss if she was too buried in grief to realize her gain. That was the only reason.

Shaking the thoughts from his mind, he hurried in the direction of the dining hall. He was late, he knew, but it couldn't be helped. His sparring session with Ahsoka had taken a bit longer than he had expected it to, and he'd still had to shower, which had been lengthened by an unconscious daydream that Padmé had starred in.

The sense of anonymity he had created empowered him, and he had decided to add gloves to further obscure his features. After all, what villain didn't wear gloves?

Except that the gloves he had found were so blasted hard to fasten.

He was still struggling with the right one as he approached the dining hall, and much to his dismay, the two guards on duty opened it immediately.

Almost immediately, Padmé and her friend looked over at him, the blonde's eyes immediately going to his partially fastened glove.

Hoping that neither of them noticed, he used the Force to clasp the kriffing thing shut, effectively pinching his wrist and making him wince.

If they noticed, they didn't show it, instead giving him looks of curiosity. Embarassed at being put on the spot, he lowered himself into his seat. "I apologize for keeping you waiting. I was… preoccupied," he said. Turning to Padmé, he settled for a relaxed smile. "You look beautiful, my pet."

Though he hated to admit it, it was true. Why couldn't she be one of the ugly- or even ordinary looking- exes, who it was easy to forget about? Why did she have to look like a queen, dining with her loyal servants? One of which being him?

Her hair fell in darm waves down her back, just as he liked it. No, not like. He didn't like anything about her. The hair was only a distraction, set by her to ensnare him.

Just like the dress. And the makeup. And the creamy soft skin. All traps, made to catch him.

Her cheeks flushed gently. "You were very kind to provide me with such… lavish… amenities."

Of course that would be all she thought about. All the riches that she was taking advantage of.

Still… He smirked. "Believe me, I am doing this for entirely selfish reasons."

She dropped her eyes to her plate, playing coy. "Thank you, Master."

The word fueled his blood, making him shift in his seat. "I like it when you say that, my pet," he whispered, and the deepened flush on her cheeks said that she had heard him. Perhaps… "Though I think I'll like it more when you're screaming it."

Her eyes widened as she looked up at him, her lips parting slightly. But the look on her face…

She should be grateful that her friend was there.

She dragged her tongue over her lip once before bringing her wine glass to her mouth, the ruby liquid disappearing through the enticingly red lips. Her eyes lit. "What… what kind of wine is this? It's absolutely delectable."

"Only the best for you. It was grown in our own vineyard, not far off from here." An idea popped into his head as he sipped his own glass. "It is goog, but I have a feeling it would taste infinitely better on your lips."

This time the blonde reacted, choking on her own glass as Padmé blushed. The woman- he still had not the slightest idea of who she was, other than that she looked vaguely familiar- folded her hands together imperiously. "I'm afraid I don't know what to call you."

She was a different one. Somehow, she seemed more royal than Padmé, from the way she carried herself to the polished tone of her voice. He smiled. "You could simply follow your friends example."

Just the slightest twitch of her eyebrow, and a glint in the cold blue eyes. "I'd prefer not to, for the short time I remain here." She lifted her chin, and the air of regality was nearly tangible. "Is there anywhere I might acquire a ship? I do not wish to impose any longer than neccessary."

He tried to touch her mind, but once again, her shields blocked him out almost completely. "There is one who makes twice yearly trips to another planet where you may gain transportation, if you do not wish to rely on my good graces. He will be leaving in two moons, and you may go with him if you choose." That was all true.

She blinked, and he could feel her dismay. "Is there any way I may persuade him to leave earlier? I have rather urgent business I need to see to."

She seemed intent on forcing his hand. "For the right price, I'm sure he'd take you anywhere. However," he added when she seemed to perk up a little too much. "Your Republican credits will be of no use here. Everything you trade must be in goods, which you have none of."

The woman pursed her lips, but pressed on. "Is there a comm unit I may use, then? I can have one of my pilots come and retrieve us."

He gritted his teeth. "There is no way to communicate off planet. The atmosphere prohibits any sort of long range transmissions." That, for the most part was true. The atmosphere did inhibit communications to the point of unbearibility, but he couldn't let her know that.

Her should sagged in disappointment. "In the meantime, would it be possible to see where our ship crashed?" she asked softly, and he sensed the sorrow descend over her like a thick blanket. "I… I would like to see if anything of value was spared."

Something about her attitude told him that there likely was something of great value, and he vowed to look over the wreckage himself before letting anyone else see it. "In a few days, I will have my guards escort you to the site." The waiters finally arrived with the food, and he motioned for them to set them down. "Until then, I hope you will enjoy your… vacation, if you will."

The look of bliss on Padmé's face told him that would be no problem.

* * *

Satine Kryze of Kalevla, Duchess of Mandalore.

No wonder the woman acted like a queen. She ruled a whole kriffing system. And she was a _pacifist_.

According to the holonet, she was also the designated regent of the Council of Neutral Systems, and had been given the title of official Arbiter between the Republic and the Separatists.

When he took a closer look at her, though, he realized where he remembered her from. Obi-Wan had had a holo of him and a blonde woman, taken when he had been young. Of course, he'd never told Anakin exactly who the woman was, but now he had his answer.

So, Duchess, pacifist, regent, arbiter, and lover of Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Well, former lover as it was.

The thought of his Master's death arose again, but he pushed it aside. Obi-Wan wasn't dead. He couldn't be. No matter what the situation, the man seemed to be able to jilt death. He'd likely jumped ship early and was even now drinking tea and charming some houseful of unsuspecting women in one of the villages. No, Obi-Wan Kenobi couldn't be dead.

That thought put his mind somewhat at ease, and he finally allowed it to drift back to her.

Padmé.

Her reaction to his overtures only confirmed his suspicions. She was willing to lure in any man, whether she knew him or not. He could only imagine how many covert affairs she had conducted in the three years he had been gone. Likely dozens.

And the Master was just another check on her list.

* * *

 **So, second chapter! Thank you for helping me reach on Vanished!**

 **Now, a lot of you have been asking that I do a Master Version of every chapter, and I want to assure you that I plan to. However, I will not be uploading it in full until I have completed Vanished. Don't worry, I'll still be giving out chapters for every fifty favorites, and hundred follows and review for Vanished, and I've decided to also put out chapters for every twenty five favorites and fifty follows and reviews on this one, since you are all so enthusiastic.**

 **Thank you to MumsieDo, A.K. Skywalker, sunmoonwindandstars, black velvet night, MugglebornJedi, Varete, Angelcake23, and Writer13032005 for being the first to follow and favorite!**

 **MumsieDo: Thank you! I'm glad this helps to provide some insight!**

 **HazelMoonflower: Thank you!**

 **sunmoonwindandstars: I'm so glad you like it!**

 **Rambling anOn: Thank you so much!**


	3. Chapter Three: The Duchess

Anakin felt awful.

Unlike his master, he had never succeeded in the all night meditation. Where Obi-Wan had always found it refreshing, Anakin just found it draining. After six hours of failing to find peace, he had finally gone to the archives to conduct research.

Now, as he was used to, he wandered in the direction of the Room of a Dozen Fountains, as he called the indoor garden. There, at least, he could find peace and solace. Perhaps he could meditate a bit as well.

But when he rounded the corner, he saw her sitting there, feet in the water and a look of bliss on her face.

Of course.

"Duchess. I should have expected you to be here."

She didn't even look up. "So you know who I am."

He came and sat down beside her. "Since this morning." What did one say to a Duchess? "I apologize for not recognizing you earlier. I'm afraid I've been very out of touch."

Her eyebrow twitched, as if she was resisting the urge to raise it. "I take no offense. I fear that very few people outside of the political circle recognize me."

She was being kind, he knew. As soon as he had typed in Padmé's name, hers had come up right beside it.

But he could sense she didn't want to talk about that, so he decided to probe her knowledge. "May I ask you a question?"

"You may, though whether or not I choose to answer is at my own will."

So, feisty. He decided to play it safe. "The man who was with you… he was a Jedi, correct?"

Her blue eyes registered the surprise that he sensed. "Yes, he was. How…?"

Shavit. He hadn't though that far ahead. "Before the crash, he tried to make contact with us," he said slowly, trying to stick as close to the truth as he could. "I recognized his voice."

Her eyes lit, the cloud of sorrow lifting slightly. "You knew Obi?"

Obi. She'd definitely been close to him. Likely closer than he had ever gotten. Not as if he had ever really tried. "We crossed paths a few times years ago," he replied evasively. "He was a great man."

The sorrow grew. "He was."

"I don't think I've ever met someone as devoted to anything as he was to the Jedi." That was entirely true. Obi-Wan had always been the complete opposite of himself. "It could be annoying at times, but I admired him for it."

"It was impossible not to," she agreed, looking away again. "Even if you might hate him for it."

He blinked. That was a bit harsh. "You know him well, then?"

Her cheeks grew slightly pinker. "I… he was sent to me when I was younger, and we became… close." She smiled at some unknown memory. "We didn't see each other for, oh, almost twelve years, when I ran across him at Padmé's apartment after his padawan's death. We've been friends ever since."

Anakin sucked in a breath. "You knew his apprentice?"

"No, I never met him," she confessed, and he relaxed slightly. "It's funny, I don't even have the slightest clue what he even looked like." That was good. That was really good. "The only holo I've ever seen of him was when he was ten. All the other ones were locked up after his death. Did you know him?"

He almost laughed. "Yes, I saw him a couple of times." In a mirror, perhaps.

She turned to him, immediately interested. "What was he like? Obi never wanted to talk about him, and Padmé always broke down in tears whenever I mentioned him."

He put away the thought of Padmé crying about him. She likely was only upset that she hadn't been able to get him into her bed. "He was a boy," he began slowly, trying to think of how he saw himself then. "Mischievous, arrogant, passionate, reckless. Not exactly the ideal Jedi." He smiled. Not even close to the ideal Jedi. "It seemed like every few minutes Ma… Master Kenobi was lecturing him on something."

He mentally cursed the slip up, but she didn't seem to notice it. "That sounds right."

No, no, no. They needed to get off of this subject, and fast. "Wait, what's your name again?"

"Kryze. Satine Kryze of Kalevala," she replied, her confusion at the sudden change of subject clear. "And yours?"

"Ah, that would be right." He laughed, purposefully ignoring her question. "I should have guessed you were like that." He already had, but that didn't matter.

"Like what?"

He couldn't keep back the smirk. "Master… Kenobi's lover." Another slip up, but she didn't notice, her cheeks becoming red.

"Why would you say that?"

"He always had a thing for girls with blonde hair and blue eyes. Especially ones whose names started with the 's' sound." So he wasn't being entirely truthful, but it was interesting to see the ire rise in her eyes.

"Really?"

"Yep. Let me see, there was his first girl, Cerasi, when he was about fourteen, but she died." Never mind that she had red hair and green eyes. "Then there was Siri, who was he was on and off with since they were about seventeen. I remember a girl named Sadira, though it turned out that her hair was bleached." And she'd been about twelve, following him around like a lost puppy until he finally talked to her parents about it. "There were a few others, too, but I can't recall them all from the top of my head. He was quite the ladies man." He was, but only the unrequited love of all the women.

The Duchess seemed to believe him, though, her face darkening. "Indeed."

"So you guys were like that?" She didn't seem to be one of the type of women who fell for Obi-Wan's pretty words and manners, but one could enver know.

Her cheeks grew even redder, and she shook her head. "No." When he continued to stare at her, she groaned. "We were teenagers, loaded with hormones, left alone for a year."

Wait… what? "Really? You guys actually did the dirty?"

She wrinkled her brow. "What were you expecting?"

He hadn't been. His Master, stuffy old Obi-Wan? Self proclaimed celibate? Getting in bed with a woman? Impossible. "A kiss, maybe. I mean, Mas…" there, he had done it again. "Obi-Wan may have flirted with every blonde he saw," not exactly true, "but he never took them to bed. He always seemed too… he wasn't like that." What she had implied suddenly hit him, and he smiled in amusement. "You thought I was saying he slept with all those women?"

She was completely red now, and she looked back down. "No," she muttered, pulling her feet out of the water.

She had thought it. He laughed. "You don't have much trust in your boyfriend, do you?"

"No… I mean, yes, but he's not my…"

He laughed again. "Fine, then, lover." He rose, grinning as he offered her a hand. "Breakfast will be ready soon. It was good speaking to you, Duchess."

And as she mumbled a good day, he knew it would be.

* * *

Anakin was just about to climb into bed for a pre-breakfast nap when his comm unit went off.

He groaned, using the force to flick it on. "Hello?"

"I hope I'm not interupting anything, Master," Colier said from the other end of the line.

"No, nothing." Except for his nap. "I suppose you're calling about the wreck?"

"Yes, Master. It seems that the ship crashed relatively close to Kle, and several of the men on duty there were able to contain the blast. They also managed to tear the cockpit off of the body before the explosion."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He was fading, fast.

"Meaning they were able to evacuate the male passenger before the ship combusted."

Obi-Wan. He sat up. "How is he?"

"It doesn't look good, Master. Ahsoka hasn't been able to stabilize him, and we've nearly lost him twice in the past hour." He exhaled. "Ahsoka says we need to bring him back there and into the clinic, but she's afraid we'll lose him if we try to move him."

"I'll come there. Ask her what she needs, and I'll bring it with me."

"Yes, Master. Anything else?"

He hesitated. "Yes, actually. Can you tell your brother to come back here? I need someone to keep our guests out of trouble in my absence."

* * *

He was exhausted.

Anakin had arrived at the village of Kle only minutes before Obi-Wan had once again drifted too close to the land of the dead. With the help of the force, he and Ahsoka had been able to revive him and keep him stable long enough to hook him up to life support. They'd been able to breath easier then, but the sight of his Master's bruised and broken body was emotionally draining.

It had been late when he'd finally left the tiny clinic. It would have been better if they could bring him back to the palace clinic, with it's extensive equipment and bacta tank, but even he knew that trying to move the man would be impossible.

So, he had walked back to the Capital, only a few kilometers away and yet feeling like it was on the other side of the planet.

But now, he was home, and he flopped back onto his bed. Sleep was all he wanted now. Sleep and food.

At the thought of food, his stomach growled loudly, reminding him that he hadn't eaten since dinner the night before.

That wouldn't do at all.

Dragging himself out of bed, he made his way towards the kitchens, where Chantay, the cook, always had something for him. And this time was no exception.

Ten minutes later, he was seated on a stool with a roll in one hand, a nuna leg in the other, and a collosal bowl of thick, steaming stew in front of him. Exactly what he needed to fill the seemingly endless cavern of his stomach.

He was halfway through when the door to the kitchens opened, and Matri came in. When he saw Anakin, he nodded. "Master."

Anakin nodded, swallowing. "Matri. How were our guests?"

"Excellent, although the Senator did ask after you a few times. I made sure to relay to her that you would be meeting her."

He stifled a groan. He had told her to wait up for him, hadn't he? Stupid, stupid Anakin. "Thank you, Matri. She's waiting for me, then?"

"I believe so, Master. She was watching for you at the window for a while, but she went into the library a few minutes ago." He grinned. "She is a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

A streak of white hot anger raced through him, and he glared at the younger man. "She doesn't like men like you." Did she? He had not the slightest idea.

Matri's eyes shuttered. "Of course, most women appreciate the mysterious warrior over the abused slave boytoy."

Kriff. It had taken him two years to get the boy to believe he truly didn't see him as the male prostitute his slave Master had used him as. "That's not what I meant. I simply meant she prefers blondes."

"Right." He looked at some spot on the wall. "Are you going back tomorrow?"

"Yes."

"Okay. Good night, Master."

Not for the first time, he wished he could somehow change the title that had been bestowed on him. It felt wrong for an ex-slave to call him Master, just as it did for all the people he interacted with. But as long as he chose to hide his identity, that was going to be the reactio from all of them.

He sighed, going to finish his now cold stew.

* * *

With plodding steps, he entered the library, only to hear voices already there.

"...wish to remain chaste?"

 _What?_

"I don't know." That was Padmé. "Right now, yes."

"But?"

"That's right now, when there's no one to tempt me." He stepped back. No one? What was he, then?

"I know how that feels. Before I met… him… I thought I would be fine being a virgin my whole life." Why had she hesitated to say his name? Unless… "And since he died, I'm once again content with not engaging in amorous relations. But if another would come upon the scene that I should feel similarly for, I don't know."

"Would you want to feel the same for someone else?"

"No. What we had was sacred, and I… I promised him he was my only." The air was sadder now, and he wouldn't have been surprised if she was crying. "I don't want to break that promise. Even though he is dead, I don't want to tarnish his memory."

Finally, a woman of some morals. Was permanent celibacy of ones significant post death to much to ask? Although, Obi-Wan wasn't dead. Yet.

"Even though Anakin and I never got that far, I feel the same," Padmé confessed, and he scoffed. Of course she did. "But now…" See, there it was. "I think that being completely separated from the male species may not have been the wisest of actions." So she had been sleeping with women too, since he was gone? Utterly disgusting. "The slightest touch of a man is enough to set me on fire. Or maybe… maybe I'm hitting that mid life period."

He heard a short, sharp laugh that could only have been the Duchess's. "I hope not. I have yet to hit mine, and you are already hitting yours, that doesn't speak well of the length of your life."

"Then what is it? I have been perfectly able to remain unattracted and detached from every man I've met over the past three years." Yeah, right. "Why is everything changing now? And with a perfect stranger, whose name is as much of a mystery as his face?"

 _You'd be surprised at how well you know me._

"Whoever knows why we're attracted to those we don't even care for? Why we fall in love, if it almost always leads to heartbreak?"

All too true. He stepped out from behind the bookshelf, relishing the look of surprise Padmé gave him. "Words of wisdom. Listen to your friend, my pet." She sucked in a breath as he knelt beside her, caving to the desire to trace her jawline with his hand. "Or your heart will be broken."

* * *

 **Does anyone else think Anakin has judgement problems where Padmé is concerned?**

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	4. Chapter Four: Blue Eyes

He was tired.

It was a side effect, he supposed, of being awake for the past three days straight. He had never had trouble sleeping before, but having her near… it drove him to the end of his senses. Even from the other end of the palace, he could feel her presence as if she was in the bed next to him. And the very idea of it drove him mad.

Of course, he had found it necessary to journey and see how Obi-Wan was progressing every day. Not as if he was of any use; the nuances of the medical field were far above his reach, and if he were honest, so was the basic procedures. Ahsoka, though, had a rudimentary knowledge from the medical journals he had stocked in the library, and she had been performing her role as a nurse excellently.

He had been home every evening, of course. Though he may find it difficult to be around her, Padmé was the lifeblood of his soul. Now that she was here, it was impossible to tear himself away completely, and he privately watched her from the shadow of his hood at dinner. Against his better judgement, he found himself repeatedly asking her if she needed anything, and he could sense the Duchess's curious looks.

Ah, the Duchess.

She was too curious for her own good. For the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he liked her. She was smart, distrustful, and much too perceptive. Though it had been sufficiently easy to further haze Padmé's already buried memory of him, the Duchess Kryze had proven too strong minded for him. She'd asked about the wreck, as if she knew that something was amiss with it, and he'd been forced to give her evasive promises of visits and retribution, an impossible task as it were.

He reached for his hood, then paused. They had smuggled Obi-Wan in the night before, so he had nowhere to go. _She_ was still asleep, but he could sense the Duchess in her usual morning haunt.

Huh. Maybe it was time he paid her another visit. And she'd never seen him, right? So it wasn't like she'd recognize him.

It was strange, he found, to not wear his hood. For three years, he'd never ventured past the sanctuary of his bedroom and his and Ahsoka's shared sparring room without it. He felt strangely naked, just as he had when he had first stopped carrying his lightsaber.

The Room of a Dozen Fountains was right down the hall from his room, and he felt himself begin to relax as soon as the sound of trickling water met his ears. Even on his worst days, the water could soothe his nerves, just as it had at the temple. He had at first forgone the luxury, insisting that it was a frivolous waste that could have provided water for whole families on Tatooine. But after a week of failed meditation, he had gone and hauled the stones himself.

As usual, the Duchess was seated by the waterfall, dressed in a simple shift that was at least six inches too short on her tall, slender frame. It had likely been hastily borrowed from one of the maids, if the too-short sleeves were any indication. Her feet were in the water, a wistful look on her face as she stared at the transparent liquid.

"Here for your morning soak, I presume?"

She didn't even start, which hardly surprised him. She had proven to be almost entirely unflappable; only the slightest acceleration of her heartrate hinted of her surprise.

The Duchess didn't even look up as she spoke. "I still don't know your name."

Had he mentioned that she was persistent? "My name is of no importance to you," Anakin replied softly, amused. Rolling up his pant legs, he sat down on the bank and plunged his legs into the cool water, releasing a silent sigh of relief.

Finally, she looked up, and this time the surprise registered on her face. Her eyes widened slightly, the blue orbs blinking as her lips parted. "Wha…"

He couldn't hold back his amusement. He had flapped the unflappable! "What, are you surprised?"

That, she most definitely was, though she managed to hide it well. "I… I expected you to be wearing your hood," she explained slowly as her eyes conducted a thorough examination of his face. They landed on his right eye and she grimaced. "How did you get those?"

Of course. What woman wouldn't immediately note the flaws? "A fight, few months back," he lied, trying to guage her reaction. From the way her lips turned down, it wasn't good. "Do they look that bad?"

She hesitated, causing what little ego that remained to plummet further. Then, she shook her head. "Actually, they don't. Painful, perhaps, but not in a grotesque way."

Painful? Grotesque?

 _I like pretty things._ Padmé's words rang in his mind, loud and clear. That was how she had seen him, as a pretty toy to play with. But now…

He groaned, burying his face in his hands as he tried to shut out the look on her face when she had said it. She liked pretty, perfect things. He had known it. She'd never accept him now. He was worthless. He should have known…

"Who?"

Anakin froze, suddenly snapping back to consciousness. Had he spoken aloud? One look into her questioning eyes and he knew he had. Shavit.

Forcing a smile, he laughed, trying to find a convenient lie. Those were becoming all too common. "I was talking about a lady who wanted to hire me as an actor in her theatre awhile back." Even to his ears, the excuse sounded lamer than an old man with one leg, but he persisted on. "She said my 'flawless' face would have people coming from miles around." At least that part was true, though he had only been twelve at the time. "I don't think she'd feel the same now."

She didn't believe him, of that he was sure. But she said nothing, instead just watching him calculatingly.

Desparate to pull her thoughts away from the subject, he tried another tack. "Do you think they will heal?"

Some of the suspicion melted from her eyes. "How long have you had them?"

"Five years, maybe? Since I first came here." There, a subtle hint to how long he had been there. Of course, it wasn't technically a lie, as the Ehren year was substantially shorter than the Galactic Standard.

Wait, hadn't he said he had gotten them in a fight a few months ago? He swore mentally. Keeping track of his lies was becoming harder and harder.

Thankfully, she didn't seem to notice, instead laughing. "Then no, I don't think they will be going anywhere anytime soon."

Something about her amusement at the situation made him smile, then laugh as well.

 _I like pretty things._

Slowly, he felt the humor fade away, but he couldn't risk any more suspicion on the Duchess's part. So, with a wink, he said, "I suppose I must continue to wear my hood, then. I don't think the rest of the world is ready to see my face yet."

A flicker of understanding. "Ah, so that's why you wear it. I wondered." She cocked her head to the side, studying him again. "They're no that bad, though. You're still rather handsome, regardless."

 _I like pretty things._

"That's because you're different from the others." And she was. "You've learned not to judge by appearances, because they don't dictate who the person is."

She smiled, and it spoke of betrayal and sorrow. "All too true, though it would be much easier if they were."

He forced a laugh, trying to dig them out of what was fast looking to be a pit of misery. Looking to change the subject, he stood. "Are you going in?"

"The water?" Her eyes rounded slightly. "No."

"Why not? I know you want to."

Longing filled her eyes as she looked down at the cool liquid. "You're right, I do. It's been awhile since I've gone swimming. At least since the last time we were on Naboo, and that was, what, eight months?"

Had she included Padmé in that we? "Go ahead then."

She shook her head, her eyes flicking to the shift. "No, I'm not dressed for it…"

He ignored her, wanting for once to forget everything in the safe confines of the water. As he resurfaced, he grinned when he saw her sitting in the same place, effectively soaked to the skin. "Well, you might as well get in now. You're already wet, anyway."

She shot him a glare even as she slipped into the water. "For one minute."

He felt his grin widen as he rolled onto his back, looking for another subject to start on that wasn't about him. "So, Padmé doesn't know about you and Obi-Wan's little love affair?" Good, he hadn't stumbled over his name this time. Definitely an improvement.

Satine groaned. "How much did you hear that night?"

Too much, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "You didn't answer my question."

A look of mild exasperation crossed her face. "No, she didn't. Obi-Wan never brought up the past, so neither did I." She closed her eyes, sinking deeper into the water. "Even if he had, I wouldn't have told her. It was already too late for us, and she was still grieving over Anakin. Still is, in some ways, if we're being honest."

He should leave the subject alone, but yet… "Why? I know that he died, about a year after I came here…" the lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but it was for a good cause, right? "...but why would she be grieving over him?"

"Before his death, Anakin was assigned as Padmé's bodyguard. According to my knowledge, they grew close, but he disappeared. Why, we don't know. Two weeks later, as you probably know, he was killed."

Something about the way she said it didn't sit right with him. "You have no idea of his motives for disappearing?"

She shrugged. "According to Obi-Wan, none. He and Padmé were having dinner one night, and they went their separate ways to go to bed. The next morning, he was gone."

She didn't know. And if she didn't know, it was likely Obi-Wan didn't either.

Padmé had lied to them.

Something akin to anger bubbled up in him, and he held back the urge to tell her the truth, right then and there. "How… peculiar," he murmured through clenched teeth. "And she still grieves?"

"Yes. Though it is not nearly as bad as it was before." Before he could voice one of the hundreds of questions lingering in his mind, she stretched and smiled. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go change into dry clothes if I have any intention on getting to breakfast on time."

Panic rushed through him as the a thought occured to him. "Duchess?"

She paused, wringing out her hair. "Yes?"

He swallowed, trying to find the least conspicuous way to voice his wishes. "If you would refrain from informing anyone of my… revealing… I would be grateful. I have my reasons for being here, away from proper society. I readily admit that something happened that caused me to be considered an outcast before I left, and that quite a few people may not have let go of the past yet. I fear the Senator may be one of them, and though the story was distorted, she may not yet be ready to forgive me."

She stared at him for the longest time, and he had to hold back the urge to squirm under her calculating gaze. Finally, she nodded slowly. "I understand. I will leave it up to your discretion to choose if and when you will reveal yourself to her. Though, if I may offer a suggestion, I would not dally with her affections without the thought of an eventual reveal in mind. Her immunity to masculine charms is very low right now, and I would not want to see her heartbroken again."

He swallowed, and this time the truth tasted worse than the lie. "I will tell her," he promised. "Eventually."

* * *

"You did what?!"

Ahsoka, Colier, and Matri cowered beneath his glare. "We thought… you would… want it?" his padawan finished the sentence in a question, obviously regretting her earlier actions.

"Which one of you kriffing sons of a sith thought it would be a good karking idea to hold a blasted party?" He growled as calmly as he could.

Immediately, four accusatory fingers pointed at Colier, who looked miserable. "I… it was…" He gulped, cringing. "Well, we were talking down in the kitchen, about Ami, and Chantay said that she had told her cousin, and that everyone wanted to meet her- Ami, I mean- and I said that you would probably be hosting a big party for her, and Ahsoka said that you _had_ said something about her becoming queen, and what's a queen without a coronation? And Matri said he had overheard you saying you had something special planned for tonight, and thought he should tell everyone in advance just in case you forgot. And now… uh, we're having a party?"

Anakin forced himself to breathe. "And how is it that I'm just now hearing about this?" What was worse than the fact that they had invited everyone _without his knowing_ was the fact that he'd only just heard about it from Chantay when she asked him to finalize the menu for the feast.

This time, Colier scowled at Matri. "I thought you had told him already?"

The younger brother avoided eye contact, looking very much like he wanted to die. "I… you said he was already planning it, so why would I have to tell him?"

"It was your _job_ , shaakhead!"

"But it was _your_ idea, nerfherder!"

The siblings continued to squabble heartily, reverting back to their native language seamlessly. Anakin shook his head, wondering what crime he had commited to be so punished.

* * *

He had just sat down when the door opened and Padmé and the Duchess strode in. He recognized the dress she wore to be one of the originals he had chosen for her, and fought the urge to shift as he saw how it fit her. The halter top exposed much too much skin, and he forced his eyes away from where a few loose tendrils of hair brushed the side of her neck, tempting him.

She sat at his right hand, and he could sense her chilliness towards him. "You have decided to join us today, I see."

He smiled, trying to dispel the ire she was failing to hide. "Yes. My business elsewhere has been completed, for now." She said nothing, and he beckoned to the servants, trying desperately to find something to fill the silence. "I hope you can forgive me for my absence, my pet."

The nod she offered him told him that she did _not_ forgive him, and was in fact _very_ offended with him. "Of course. You have been most kind in providing me and my friend with everything we need for the duration of our stay, and we can certainly allow you the time to look after what pressing matters I'm sure must await you."

Silence descended over the table, and he shifted awkwardly, trying to find his footing again. "Speaking of pressing matters, I'm sure Acca has informed you of the dinner tonight?" Maybe that would make her happy.

"Yes, she has."

Or not.

He tried another tack. "Most of the noble leaders of various tribes will be here. There have been a few conflicts among them, and I am no diplomat." He tried for his best encouraging smile, but had a feeling that she didn't even see it. Blast it, being ignored by her was ten times worse than the torment of her seductive efforts. "However, the know you have been a kind and just leader to your people, and will listen to you. They have developed much in the past five years, but there is still a ways to go, and I have little experience in what it takes to run a planet." At least he was telling the truth in that.

Finally, a hint of excitement. "What is needed?" she asked eagerly.

He nearly sighed in relief at the change. "You will have to ask the people. They will tell you how things stand, and you may feel free to make whatever adjustments needed."

"How will she know who to speak to?" Satine asked, her own eyes sparkling. "How are matters taken care of now?"

Truly, he had hit on their passion, though he doubted the Duchess would get much exercise. "I see that you are also eager to do something productive, Duchess. You may help Padmé in her efforts. Tonight, I will introduce you to the leaders. They will explain to you in detail how things are taken care of now." Truly a short discussion, as everyone did as they pleased. "As I said, they are not all in agreement, so they will look to you on the best actions to take in the future."

The look of pure excitement that came over Padmé's face nearly did him in. The flushed cheeks, sparkling eyes, broad smile…

Yes, he liked this Padmé.

* * *

 **Well, this took longer than expected…**

 **Anyway, thank you so all so much for supporting me and my story! This is my first (and likely only) primarily Anidala fic, and I'm grateful for the extensive support it's received. As always, feedback is welcome and an important source of inspiration for me, so the more reviews, the faster the update!**

 **Once again, thank you to all of the new followers and favorites, I know you're out there even though I may not mention you by name. Same goes for all of you who left a review!**

 **Well, until next time!**


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